I apologize for not responding to everyone’s emails, and for not answering all your questions when I do write. Today I apologize in advance for not answering any emails, as I can answer most questions with one blog entry today.
My new (temporary) home town is Ialoveni (pronounced Ya’-low-vyen). It is kind of a suburb of Chisinau, the capital city roughly in the middle of Moldova. We are about 10 minutes by bus to the edge of Chisinau, and it takes about another 15-20 minutes to get to the center of Chisinau from the very edge.
Ialovani first appears in historical documents in 1502, thus they celebrated their 500th anniversary 2 years ago. There are about 18,000 residents in the town, but so far our life (us PC trainees, that is) primarily occurs along the main street, called Alexander cel Bun. Ialoveni area is particularly well-known for its wine and cognac, they have some “ancient secret recipes” here, and the winery is on the northern edge of town, on the way to Chisinau. I would guess that I live about 1.5-2 km from the northern edge of town, but nonetheless in one of the first apartment buildings, on the edge of what I would call the central area of town. North of me are many individual homes, and it is considered the rich part of town. Many of the homes are large even by American standards, and there are still lots under construction. It seems as if many people live in Ialoveni and commute by bus to Chisinau every day for work as housing is hard to find in the capital, and extremely expensive when you do find it.
My apartment building is very long and about 5 or 6 stories tall. We live at the southernmost end, in a corner apartment on the second floor facing Alexander cel Bun (the main street). It’s a pretty busy street, and I can hear cars zipping up and down the road all night (but usually I’m so dog tired I think I’d sleep through anything). The apartment belongs to a 40-year old teacher named Elena and her 16-year old daughter Anya. Elena has been in London since July, and thus Anya’s grandmother (Elena’s mother) Tamara has been staying with her. Tamara and her husband Fyodor live basically across the street, though, so there is a lot of back and forth going on between the apartments. Tamara’s other granddaughter, 12-year Ksenia, lives with her during the week and thus has been staying with us too in Elena/Anya’s apartment to be with her grandma. Ksenia’s parents used to live in Chisinau, but their apartment lease was not renewed and they haven’t been able to find other housing yet. Ksenia’s mother lives in a village somewhere, but since they still wanted Ksenia to go to her school in Chisinau, they decided it would be best for her to stay with Grandma and commute to school. She goes to her parents’ on the weekends.
So, there are a lot of women in our small apartment right now! Elena returns from London in a week or so, and Tamara and Ksenia will “move” back to the other apartment, but I suspect there will continue to be a lot of going back and forth. Actually, I hope so as I already love Tamara dearly. She is a retired Russian language teacher, and is now on her second career as a librarian at the local school. She loves to help me with my homework, whether I want it or not! No slacking off in her house. 
She has accepted me with open arms, and we found a lot in common in the kitchen as she is a wonderful cook and I enjoy helping and learning, both lots of new Russian words and phrases but also delicious dishes.
Our apartment is what they call here a 2-room apartment. That means there are 2 rooms in addition to the kitchen and bathroom. When you enter the apartment, the kitchen is straight ahead down a short hall. It is a small room, but as in most Russian households, the bulk of time, especially social and family time, is spent in there. There is a small gas stove, lit with matches, a sink and a small counter all along the left-hand wall. Cupboards above and below. The small table and stools sit on the right-hand wall. The back wall opens onto a small “veranda” as they call, where the refrigerator and trash can are kept. Outside the veranda window is the clothesline for drying your laundry.
The toilet and bathroom are in two separate rooms in the hallway between the front door and the kitchen, on the left. In this part of the world, it is common to have a tiny room with just the toilet, and then a separate room right next to it with the sink and bathtub. We also have a washing machine, which is a super handy thing but not very common. Most people (women, I should say, as the men don’t do it) wash their clothes by hand.
Inside the front door, to the right is another short hallway. Along there is the coat rack and a wardrobe. The telephone with a long cord is supposed to sit there in the hallway, but with a 16 year old in the house, it is often stretched to places unknown for long conversations.
Anya’s room is first on the left. It is a narrow room, her bed on the right, wardrobe on the left, desk at the far end. It, too, opens up onto a veranda, but this one is not connected to the one from the kitchen. It is a longer one, though, and runs the rest of the length of the apartment, behind my apartment, too. It’s used mostly for storage, and right now is full of walnuts as it is the season and walnut trees are abundant everywhere. Many people have them on their property, or if it’s just along a public street or in a park, anyone can collect the walnuts. There are several outside our building, and there seem to be plenty of walnuts to go around. I must say, if you’ve never had a completely fresh walnut, you have to try it!
My room is at the end of the short hallway, in the outside corner of the apartment. There are 2 chairs with an end table between on the right wall, windows to their left, and then a long case (called a shkaf here), which serves as all-in-one china cabinet, book shelves, and storage space. My wardrobe is at the end. To the left of the wardrobe is the glass door to the veranda, which lets in a nice amount of sunlight. My study table is in the last corner, next to the couch that I pull out at night to make into my bed. It’s a nice size room, really much too much space for just me, but Anya insists she doesn’t want to change rooms.
Back to the town. I live at the top of the hill, and walk about 1/2 mile every day to our Russian language classes. Along the way are some other apartment buildings, small kiosks selling flowers, newspapers, fruits and vegetables, and other various small things. There are also several abandoned and run-down buildings along the way. Next to the post office is a “Memorial to the Soviet Union” as the Moldovans call them- an incomplete building that was begun during the final years of the USSR and which no one has any money or need to finish. The post office is a very large building, of which only a small part seems to be the actual post office. Our language classes are actually held in 2 rooms in the back of the building, and several businesses seem to be run out other rooms along our hallway (one door is labeled Windows & Doors, and once when the door was open, that’s exactly what was inside the small room! Along with one woman sitting at a desk with a phone). On the side of the post office bldg is the internet cafe, which also has several phone booths where you can order long distance phone calls. It’s a fairly busy place, and I’m surprised how many people use the phone booths. We can make direct local, long distance and international calls from our apartment (although it’s expensive), but I suppose not everyone has their own phone.
Further down the road, about another 1/3 mile, is the school where Tamara works and where the Peace Corps “hub” office is located. We meet there twice a week, on the second floor in a couple rooms, for general lectures with the entire trainee group. We all pack lunches on those days, and eat out on the steps by the playground. The kids are so cute. They gather in groups, staring at us and giggling, until one brave soul runs up to someone and says “hi” and then runs away. I think I will take my camera next week to break the ice a bit with them.
About 1-2 blocks further down the hill from the school is a small collection of shops. Bakery, fish, meat, household needs, and a school supply store. There is a very small market behind the buildings, where people pull up with their trucks and sell fresh produce.
I’ve ventured farther south only once so far, when Emily and I walked down one branch of a fork in the road after the shops. We came across an overgrown cemetery and a church. There were also many small homes with fenced in yards, which are cultivated for the family’s garden usually.
All along Alexander cel Bun street there are small dirt alleys branching off. Back in these areas are more small homes and gardens. Emily’s family lives in their own home down one of these streets, right next to the post office.
The street is tree-lined, grassy and I can tell it probably had some nice flowery spots earlier in the summer. The road and sidewalks are more potholes than not, and I have to be careful walking, so I haven’t done much “sightseeing” while walking along. However, I stopped a few times to take in the view, which is especially beautiful at sunrise and sunset. From the top of the hill, by my apartment, I can see out across the countryside to the left and right, to the rolling hills covered with fields. The few apartment buildings at the top of the hill are the only tall buildings in the area, and thus the view is very open.
There are street lamps throughout the town, but only one or two actually have lightbulbs in them. Thus, at night, it’s very dark. The nights have been clear, and I’ve enjoyed stargazing all week. I can even see the Milky Way!
There are many homeless dogs everywhere. I pass 5 or 6 just in the 1/2 mile to classes, and I’m sure there are many more in the abandoned buildings that I don’t even see. There are also farm animals around. For instance, there’s a goat that spends it’s days tied in front of the Memorial building next to the post office. For a few days, there was a cow in front of my apartment building. People keep them to have their own supply of milk. I hear the roosters crowing in the morning, and people keep chickens as well. One day, I saw an old woman shooing her herd of goats across Alexander cel Bun, a little bit up from my building.
Moldova is a very poor country, the poorest in Europe. But the poverty here is different than in Africa, for example. Products are not available, services are not provided (there is trash everywhere, absolutely everywhere), yet people survive by having their own small plot of land to grow their food, their own goat or cow for milk and cheese, their own hens for eggs. An elementary teacher I met earns about 700 lei a month. It is absolutely impossible to live on such an income without the supplement of one’s own garden and animals.
The Moldovan government did a very interesting thing when it split from the Soviet Union in 1991. They divided up all the land and gave each family a small piece. While the PC volunteers debate about the pros and cons of the economics of such an act, nonetheless, it seems to me that that act alone allows people to survive.
What else to tell you about Ialoveni? It’s dusty, I sneeze a lot. There are wells everywhere (but I already wrote about that). People dress fashionably here, and the proximity to the capital puts some added pressure in terms of style. Pointy shoes are definitely the trend right now, and my clunky “functional” shoes are comfortable but not in style! The weather has been hot and clear, and summer clothes are still definitely the way to go. The babushkas, though, have the same uniform the world over, regardless of weather. Just like in Russia, they have on thick stockings, heavy skirts, warm sweaters over long-sleeve shirts, and scarves on their heads. I don’t know how they survive in this heat!
That’s it for today. I hope you have a better idea of what my new hometown is like. We’ll try to get pictures up eventually.